West Fork Lake and Lookout

I'm anxious to get to Wal-Mart this morning. There's a roll of photos to pick up and one to leave for developing. I'll probably stick around town for the second one to get processed because I'm anxious to see if my Canon captured even half the brilliance of autumn that Bill, Kiwi and I saw yesterday from atop one of the Selkirk peaks.

Bill announced the night before that he was going to West Fork Lake and to a ridge-top lookout overlooking the lake for his Saturday hike. He'd intended to go there Thursday, but the pick-up's fuel pump fizzled. So, after two days in the shop, it was ready to go, and so was Bill. He said he'd wait past his departure time of OH-6:30 if I wanted to tag along. While reading the paper, I thought about it and decided that beautiful fall days would last just so long and winter time spent wishing I could go out for a hike in the mountains would last much, much longer.

Gathering essentials like hiking poles, fritos, candy and ice water, we left here at OH-6:45---not too much later than Bill's usually punctual departures for his hikes. He told me the night before that he wanted to see the lake and especially wanted to see that lookout, which is one of only two of its kind in North Idaho.

He explained that it's one of those all-metal models manufactured by a windmill company. This tower had no sleeping quarters. Instead, a cabin (long since destroyed) had stood a few feet away on the hilltop. He wasn't sure where the other metal tower was, but after doing some quick research from Rich Landers' trail guide, he learned that it is located on Saddle Mountain, which we also ended up seeing yesterday.

I asked how long the hike would be. From his somewhat vague description (always a staple when Bill wants to lure me along on a hike up the side of a mountain), it sounded like about 8 miles. He promised that it wasn't as steep as some of the others we've gone on where about a mile into the hike, Old Grouchy starts complaining.

We stopped off at the Boundary Trading Co. for extra lunch materials, the Zip Trip for gas and then headed north on Hwy 95. Turning off at Copeland, we drove across the beautiful Kootenai Valley and through some of the area along Smith Creek where Bill worked his first summers in Idaho on timber cruising crews.

We had visited the West Fork Cabin before----a long time ago and long before a fire burned the original structure. That trip was when Willie was about 15 months old. We still have a black-and-white photo of our son with his white locks standing on the porch. Since then, the old cabin has burned and a new one, which we visited a few years ago, is now starting to look weathered.

The trail to West Fork Lake and the lookout meant new territory for me and Kiwi, but Bill had hiked up to the lake in 1979. He probably forgot what the sign just below the trail head and at least half a mile from where we parked had indicated for distances between points. The sign said it would be four miles to the lookout from the junction of West Fork Cabin and West Fork Lake trails.

Of course, I started to grouse, realizing that our hike would be 11 miles instead of the 8 projected the night before, but we were there. It was a gorgeous fall day, and I decided I could tough it out with my bad knee. Except for some sore muscles today and some pretty tired feet and legs last night, I have no regrets after taking the second longest hike of my life.

The longest was a 12-miler in New Zealand three years ago with Annie on a rainy, windy, snowy, sandy, gray November (mid-spring) day with limited visibility and some of the hardest walking I've ever done in my life. Some of grueling hike even involved crawling when we reached the summit at the Tongariro Crossing and the wind was blowing sand every which way but loose at about 40 mph.

Not a pretty sight---neither the view nor Marianne, as she announced to Annie that it might be better to have a helicopter come and get her rather than seeing her mother rolling through that sand off that mountain top. The crossing is touted to be the prettiest day hike in New Zealand. I'm sure it is on a pretty day, but I'd call it the ugliest 12 miles I ever put in. Nonetheless, I'm proud to have accomplished it and to have done so with my daughter who encouraged me the entire way.

I really needed no encouragement from humans yesterday. Mother Nature, in all her splendor up there in the Selkirks, did a number on me and kept me trudging forward in a pretty darn good mood. I've never witnessed such brilliant colors, and I don't think I've ever seen a mountain lake so stunning with its sparkles bouncing off the water and its deep green trees, hot pink and hot orange shrubbery, and granite boulders encasing the scene so as not to let it go.

Bill, Kiwi and I enjoyed string cheese, beef sticks, chips and trail mix alongside the lake after he'd found his geocache in the bushes about 150 feet from shore. We snapped a few pictures and then he gingerly asked if I cared to keep climbing to the lookout. I'm sure he was surprised when I said yes. It was a rugged climb but generous visual rewards at every turn as we continued upward removed all thoughts of pain for the time being.

We met a young couple from Coeur d'Alene about halfway up who'd obviously done some serious hiking. Their socks were hanging from bushes and extra clothes for the mountain chill had been discarded as they sat in the grass, simply admiring the view. We visited for a moment and then moved on to a mountain top of mostly granite surrounded by a whole lot of its granite-topped buddies of the Selkirks.

We could see Chimney Rock off to the south, and over to the southwest, Lookout Mountain, where Kiwi had taken her very first hike last year, seemed almost within reaching distance. We again took photos at the tower and discovered a second smaller lake not far from West Fork Lake. We talked about smokes still rising to the west from the Plow Boy Fire which had led Bill to Priest Lake for fire duty a few weeks ago. And, we watched smoke billow from a long-burning fire in Long Canyon. Smoke from another intentional burn rose to the southeast.

As we admired the lookout, which has its lower steps removed, Bill wished that the structure would have some more information about its model and manufacturer. He knew Cory Vogel, a North Idaho lookout aficionado would appreciate that. While sitting next to a big boulder to avoid the wind, I tried using my cell phone to call my mother from our breath-taking perch but with no luck. Kiwi had a great time trotting across the granite and watching our every move.

We eventually started down the trail, and as I thought about the additional walk into West Fork Cabin where Bill would search out another cache, my feet and legs started complaining.

To acknowledge that pain would do no good. Just like in New Zealand, no helicopters would be showing up here to swoop me off the mountain. So, like a trooper, I moved on. We met some folks on horseback part way down the trail. They were headed toward the lake. I learned during our conversation that one of the party has done environmental consulting on our pond back at the old place. When we reached the junction where the trail goes into the cabin, Bill asked if I wanted to take the keys and Kiwi and head back to the pickup while he found his cache.

"Nope, I don't walk that far in the woods by myself," I said. The cabin was actually a welcome site because while he looked for his cache, I went inside and collapsed on one of the beds. That respite from walking gave me just enough steam to finish the hike with no complaints. That's when I boasted to Bill proudly that we'd just completed the second longest hike of my life.

To have done so beforehand would have been succumbing to the revelation that I was actually enjoying myself. Bill's not used to that.